


Atypical Star-Crossed Lovers

by Miss_Fortune



Series: Atypical Star-Crossed Lovers [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, F/M, Pining, References to Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet References, Ron Weasley Bashing, Secret Crush, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:00:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29532351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Fortune/pseuds/Miss_Fortune
Summary: When Draco finds Hermione's copy of Romeo and Juliet, he didn't know that it would be the start of his own love story. But he's determined to not let their story end so tragically.When Hermione catches Draco reading her book, she doesn't expect it to evolve into late night meetings in a closed library, with an old bully who suddenly has changed his tune. But she's not complaining...(No 2nd Wizarding War AU, Just 'normal' teenage antics!)
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Atypical Star-Crossed Lovers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2169630
Comments: 21
Kudos: 105





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Everyone!
> 
> Special Thanks to my Best Beta Ever, littleduckywaddle, for sticking with me through this!
> 
> This is my first fic in HP, so let me know if I got something wrong about general canon. There's no 2nd wizarding war, and this takes place in the group's final year at Hogwarts.
> 
> I can't wait to see what you all think!

Lavender Brown was a slag, and she told her as much.

Of course insulting her to her face in the common room wasn’t the best thing for their roommate relationship as Hermione came back to her room to find her bookshelf empty with a note stating:

_ Stupid Swot,  _

_ Have fun finding your precious books hidden among all the others in the school, what will you do without a book covering your ugly face? Too bad most of them were muggle books and cannot be magically traced, though what good is a book when it’s at the bottom of a lake?  _

_ Stay away from my Ron, or it’ll be the rest of your things next.  _

It wasn’t Hermione’s fault that she caught them in a compromising position, only a day after she rejected Ron’s advances. And it wasn’t her fault that he decided to leave Lavender behind to try and embarrassingly explain himself to her. But she will admit, it was her fault for calling her a slag in the middle of the common room when Lavender confronted her about it in the morning before breakfast. They had only been at it for 24 hours and it was already disgusting. Also she called Hermione a ‘stupid swot’, and it was way too early in the morning for her to be dealing with this.

It took about two weeks with the help of some Hufflepuffs to find almost all of the books, which she now kept in a locked trunk with the rest of her things. According to her mental list, the last two, her herbology text and a copy of Romeo and Juliet were all that was left. Though she had a feeling one was at the bottom of the lake. 

Hermione caught a break when Padma had slipped her a note at the end of DADA one day saying that she overheard Pavarti saying that she helped Lavender hide one of her books in the restricted section of the library. She didn’t agree with her twin’s treatment of books, or of her. 

This led Hermione to sneak into the library after hours to see if she could locate either book, but what she found was far more interesting.

“Alohomora.” she whispered. 

The large door clicked open slightly, Hermione pulled it back just enough to slip through, quickly locking it again behind her. 

It was her prefect duty to make her rounds down these hallways, but having to explain to Filch or another prefect what she was doing here was something she was hoping to avoid. 

“Lumos.”

The soft glow lit her way to the restricted section. While the library provided such comfort to her during the day, the night still brought anxiety and the tall bookshelves seemed to loom over her in the dark. 

Hermione's feet moved quickly, but quietly, hoping to get in and out of here quickly before her rounds were scheduled to finish. 

She reached her destination and had only just stepped over the roped off section when she found her herbology text between two dusty ancient tomes. It seemed Pavarti hadn’t wanted to go too far into the restricted section and had placed it in the first spot she saw. Hermione slipped the book out and held it under her arm, turning to go back to her rounds but As she turned the corner she stifled a gasp ,freezing on the spot .

A candle, a lit candle, was aflame in the corner of her eye. 

Someone was here. 

_ Or maybe it was left on? _ She tried to convince herself. 

Despite her better judgement she had to investigate, she was a prefect after all.

She approached quietly towards the source, the candle’s light coming from a few sections away. As she got closer she froze again as the sound of turning pages entered the empty library. It was the only other sound besides her breathing and her quiet steps. 

She reached the source, just one shelf away and peeked through the books to see who was here at this time of night. Even in the darkness she could recognize him. His platinum hair and pale skin glowing against the darkness, Malfoy.

And in his hands was her copy of Romeo and Juliet.

Great. 

-

_ Two Weeks Ago… _

Hermione was punctuating her last sentence in her Charms paper, when Ron walked over. She was at the common room table and a few other Gryffindors were about. Dean and Seamus were playing wizard chess, some fifth years were studying together at the other end of the table, and Harry and Ginny were sitting together on the couch near the main fireplace. Harry’s arm stretched behind the witch. The two made it official last week and she was beyond happy for them. She knew of Ginny's infatuation for him, and when Harry grew into his feelings, she encouraged him to go for it. She didn’t expect things to change in the dynamic of the group. The two had already been on the road to a relationship, so it really was nothing new for them. 

“Hey ‘Mione, do you have a minute?”

She was shuffling her things into her bag, “Sure Ron, what’s up?”

He hesitated in his response, which was unlike him, “Can you actually come with me? I wanted to talk to you.” Her eyes popped up to him, a blush was starting to form and he shifted his weight back and forth. 

_ Weird.  _

She took a quick look to the couch and caught sight of Harry and Ginny looking at her with matching smiles. 

“Um ok, where to?” She left her bag where it was and followed Ron out of the common room. He led the way to an alcove, Ron still hadn’t said anything and she could feel herself getting nervous. 

“So what did you want to talk about? And why does it have to be out here?” It was cold in the hallways at night and she held her arms close to her body. Ron seemed like he was sweating though, the cold apparently having no effect on him. He hesitated a half-minute more before finally speaking.

“You know how Harry and Ginny are together now, so I was wondering…um, I was wondering if we should do it too?”

Hermione’s eyes grew wide, she prayed that he wasn’t saying what she thought he was. 

She gave him the benefit of the doubt. 

“That we should do what?” She replied quickly. 

“Um, date?”

Ron was a good friend, but that’s all he’ll ever be to her. When she was younger she had imagined what it would have been like for them to be together. But every scenario she envisioned ended in thoughts of incompatibility. . At the end of the day, they didn’t really have any similarities. And she couldn’t bear the thought of having to listen to quidditch talk for the rest of her life.

She took a deep breath, “Ron-“ 

“Wait! Before you say anything, let me just- just let me say this. Isn’t this where it was going anyways? You and me, Harry and Ginny, we’ll all be one family. And that’s what I want, I want you to be a part of my family. Isn’t that what you want?” 

“Ron, I already feel a part of your family. You’re like a brother to me and I’m so happy that I have you, Harry, and Ginny.”

“I don’t want to hear that! There’s something deeper between us, and I can’t do this if you’re  _ like a sister _ .”

He leaned forward and pressed her against the wall. His lips met hers with sloppy aggression. She shoved him off, “Ronald Weasley, how dare you!”

He stood by the exit of the alcove “Mione, just let me prove it to you. That we can be together like that, I’ve always been there for you, can’t you see it?”

“No Ron, I can’t. But it seems like you’ve already made up your mind for the both of us. Where’s my choice in this? Did you think I would just fall in line? Did you really think I would just fall into your arms because you're interested in me?”

His body was tense with anger now, of course he thought about those things, he’d just thought that their wants coincided with each other’s. 

“I’m not an idiot, I’m doing this for you. Who knows you better than me and Harry? No one can love you like I can, and I don’t see anyone else lining up!”

Hermione huffed in anger, how could he say that? “Just stop talking Ron. I don’t need you to love me like that, besides I’m sure I can find someone who’s at least intellectually stimulating!”

It was a low blow, but he deserved it. She moved to push past him but he was unyielding. Giving him a hard shove out of the way, she ran back to the common room. 

Harry and Ginny looked up expectantly at her as she burst through the portrait hole , quickly realizing things hadn’t gone well. 

“Hermione-“ Harry started.

“Don’t say a word, Harry Potter!” She scowled, grabbing her bag. She ran up to her dorm, grateful that it was empty and threw herself into the bed. 

_ How could he say that to me?  _

Just because she doesn’t have a line of suitors available at her beck and call doesn't mean there isn’t anyone out there who could love her. Hermione knew her worth, no matter what Ron said. 

In the morning, Ginny and Harry pulled her aside on their way to the Great Hall for breakfast. 

“So Ron already filled us in, but we wanted to ask you, what happened last night?” Harry began.

“You know it took a lot for him to talk to you, we've been trying to get him to do it since last week.” Ginny added.

Hermione gave a deep sigh. "Ron and I cannot be together, it wont work. I just think we're too incompatible, we want different things, I just want us to stay friends. But he said some really hurtful things last night and I don't know how to forgive him.”

Ginny nodded, trying to be understanding, “Look Hermione, I know my brother can be an idiot. But I’m sure he didn’t mean it, he just doesn’t know how to talk about his feelings.” Harry hummed in agreement. 

“But Ginny, he basically called me unlovable and then-and then he just kissed me!”

The redhead gave a small smile, “Come on Hermione, you can’t blame him for being a little passionate.”

Hermione gave a disgusted huff, “You know that’s not what it was. Passion is not kissing someone right after they reject you. I can’t believe you’re defending him.” Her shoulders tensing in anger.

“You’re just not giving him a chance, doesn’t he deserve one?” Harry asked.

“No! I don’t have to give him anything. Just because we've been friends for so long doesn’t mean he’s entitled to me. I’m really happy for the two of you, but I don't want to date Ron just so we can be this little happy family. What about what I want?”

“I don't understand what more you can want Hermione.” Ginny snapped and walked away. Harry gave Hermione a small shrug and followed his girlfriend down the corridor.

No matter what the pair said, it doesn’t excuse him from anything he had done. As the day passed, she saw no sign of Ron. Quietly, she thanked whatever gods had allowed this. She wasn't ready to face Ron. Not yet. 

That night however, on her way back to the dorms after prefect duty, in the same alcove they spoke in the night before, she found Lavender Brown on her knees and Ron with his pants around his ankles.

-~-

Draco found Granger’s book when he tripped over it in the dungeons last Wednesday. It was a quiet night of prefect rounds, only the cadence of his dragon leather shoes against the floor echoed through the corridor.

He liked the quiet, it was an escape for him. The Slytherin common room could become quite unruly in the evenings. Especially among the upper years, as they had quite the knack for smuggling various liquors into the school (Despite Filtch’s best efforts to search the students after Hogsmeade visits). His pureblood peers had started early in their careers of becoming indulgent alcoholics. The rounds provided a small moment of peace from the loud laughing, snarking and fighting of his housemates. Prefect duties offered the perfect excuse to distance himself from these behaviors in which he had no wish to partake. 

Besides, No one knew the dungeons quite like Draco. His assignment to patrol in the evenings and enforce curfew came as no surprise to his friends. He soon became well known for his finesse in uncovering couples who had been looking for a bit of privacy. Soon most students stopped trying, instead finding spots in the upper levels of the castle. This advancement had led to generally uneventful nights in which he often found himself reflecting. It was his last year at Hogwarts. Upon graduation, he would begin his well scripted life as the Malfoy heir. 

His father spent the last summer cultivating and instilling lessons to integrate Draco into the business world post Hogwarts. He was his fathers protégé, and his mother encouraged him to follow his father’s footsteps without complaint. The training wasn’t difficult, however it was uninteresting. His passion lay elsewhere. Potions. But his father did not see that as a viable career option when the fate of Malfoy Investments was at stake. Maybe he’ll just continue potioneering as a hobby, hopefully there would be enough time for it. 

Draco was about halfway through his route when he stumbled across the small paperback. He had been poking his head into an alcove that was frequented by couples, when he stepped on it. He caught himself before completely losing his balance. Brushing his hair from his eyes, he peered down. Bending over, he picked up the worn tome.  _ Romeo & Juliet by William Shakespeare _ . Unfamiliar with the author, he flipped through the pages when blue ink caught his eye on one of the blank pages at the back of the book.  _ H. Granger,  _ was written in the top corner. 

_ How did the swot’s book end up down here?  _

His initial reaction was to burn it. But as he pulled out his wand, he hesitated. Interest peaked, he took a second look down at the cover. Faded gold lettering, and a frayed binding. Well worn. Well loved? What was it that Granger found within this script? His curiosity would not be satiated until he knew what the Gryffindor decided to read in her free time. Knowing it’s owner, he deduced it must be a muggle text. Not something he was willing to risk being caught with it in the Slytherin dorms. The Dungeons were too cold and dark to sit and read comfortably, so after his rounds he found his way to the library. Past curfew, it was eerily quiet. The noise the door made when Draco eased it open was almost obscene. Quickly pushing through the entrance, he moved towards the back of the library, lit a candle and began reading. 

What he did not expect was to become invested in the book. It was clearly a play, written in poetic old English. Easy enough to follow along, though a few passages had to be reread for clarity. Not wanting to cause suspicion, he read through the first act before quickly heading back to Slytherin dorms. His entire walk back, he thought of what he had just read. Appraising each of the characters and considering the young lovers. After shrugging out of his robes and pulling the curtains around his four-poster he rolled on his back, staring up into the dark. Romeo and Juliet’s encounter playing back in his mind. Lost in his thoughts, he drifted off to sleep.

He dreamed that night of a masquerade. Draco moved among partygoers at a languid pace, as if time moved slowly here. The ballroom was dim, but a light seemed to emanate from the center of the dancefloor. He was drawn like a moth to a flame, and when he caught a glance over the heads of the other guests, his gaze fell upon a masked witch with dark hair cascading over her shoulders and down her back. Her dress, a familiar shade of periwinkle. Wide, round eyes staring at him.  _ Staring into him _ . 

It might have lasted a moment or a lifetime, and suddenly Draco found himself lost amongst a sea of dancers as the striking witch twirled on the spot, and then she was gone. 

\- 

In the morning he made his way to breakfast, trying to rid himself of thoughts about his dreams and the play. He has a bad habit of pushing down feelings he should really confront, probably a side effect of being raised under Lucius Malfoy. 

Draco took his usual seat among his peers, Pansy to his right and across from his best friends, and was promptly caught up on last night's antics. Apparently Blaise and Theo are now in a bet of who can get a pair of knickers from a girl in each house the fastest. 

“And no buying them Theo! I know how you like to get out of bets.” Blaise accused. 

Pansy and Draco shared a snicker as Theo huffed. 

“I assure you, I don’t need money to get my hands on a pair of knickers.” Theo flashed a sly grin, and went back to his breakfast. Before another topic could come up, Pansy got their attention. In her low, gossiping tone, she started, “Look over at the golden trio, looks like trouble in paradise.”

Draco looked over to the Gryffindor table just in time to see Granger stomping away from her housemates. She grabbed an apple from the table and left the great hall. A few other students around the great hall took notice, but most remained unaware.

His eyes scanned back to where she usually sat. A crying blonde was in her place. The Weasel with his arm around her. 

_ What was her name? It was some flower. Lily? _

“Looks like Lavender snagged the Weasel right out from under the swot.” Pansy said. 

“Seems like it.” Blaise added, still having not turned around from staring at the scene. 

Before he could stop himself, Draco spouted, “She’s better for it anyways.” 

Blaise turned around and Theo’s eyes snapped up. Pansy’s eyebrows were raised suspiciously, 

“And why’s that?” Pansy spouted.

There was a beat of silence as they waited for his response. Thankfully, he knew a way out. 

Draco rolled his shoulders, putting on an air of disinterest. “The Weasleys are a curse I wouldn’t cast upon anyone. I’m sure she’ll find some dumpy Ravenclaw to follow around.” 

The group hummed in agreement. He could tell Pansy wasn’t fully convinced, but she let the subject go and began discussing her annual trip to Milan. 

He wasn’t quite sure what compelled him to say that. His mind didn’t turn to the Weasel often, but the thought of Granger and him together made his jaw clench. He blamed his perfectionist nature. Granger had perfect grades. That, he couldn’t deny. Talent like that needed to be matched with excellence , not wasted away on the likes of Ronald Weasley. 

_ But who would be Granger’s perfect match? _

The day went by quickly and when lunch came around, he saw Granger take food again and depart the great hall . However, at dinner she sat alone at the opposite side of the Gryffindor table near a group of first years who looked too scared to speak to her. 

For the first time, Draco had brushed off his prefect duties. He only checked the popular hiding spots before making his way to the library. The book burned a hole in his robe pocket. It had been a long time since he had been enthralled in a novel. Most of his reading materials nowadays were required for classes or business papers. It was a nice escape from his stringent reality.

He settled in his usual spot, lit a candle and returned to Verona. The antics among the family’s young men reminded him of Hogwarts house rivalries. Except with swords rather than wands. He could practically hear the voices of his friends making the snarky inciting remarks in the scene. When the lovers meet, a small tinge of happiness crept over him. While ridiculous, the concept of ‘love at first sight’, it made Draco ponder. Had he ever felt like that? Could he ever feel like that?

_ Oh Merlin, this stupid play is making me a romantic.  _

As the story continued he wondered how the two would subvert their families. He encouraged their elopement plan, a very Slytherin tactic, and stopped for the night when the two were married. 

On his walk back to the dorms and when he laid in his bed, he thought about the two lovers. And in turn thought about his own marriage. 

He didn’t think of his inevitable nuptials often, but he knew one thing, and that he did not want the same type of marriage his parents had. The two had a tumultuous relationship. There were good and bad years, at times the two were as solid as stone, other times they were as flimsy as paper. He was lucky that most of his childhood had been during a ‘good’ period, but after he left for Hogwarts they haven’t been able to come back together. 

He knew his parents loved each other, but they were never  _ in love _ . More like partners sharing a life together rather than soulmates. 

Draco wanted to be in love. 

If he could love his future wife, then he was certain that their life would be better for it. 

When sleep crept over him, he heard the faint sound of wedding bells. 

-

On his way down to potions class in the afternoon, he witnessed a strange scene between two Gryfinndors. 

“Hermione, hold on!” Longbottom called out in the corridor. 

The witch had her head down and was walking at a brisk pace to the potions classroom. She peaked up and seemed startled at the interaction, but stopped walking for him to catch up. 

There were still enough students moving about the hallway that Draco wouldn’t be noticed eavesdropping on the pair. 

“I found your book in one of the greenhouses.” He presented a thick hardcover over to her, it had soil residue and some water damage to the spine. 

“Thanks, Neville.” She simply stated and shoved it into her bag. 

“How did it end up there? You’re not one to lose things.”

Granger sighed, “Lavender thought It’d be a good idea to hide my books across campus. Some sort of revenge about Ron, don’t worry about it.” She went to turn away but he spoke again. 

“She shouldn’t have done that.” He sympathized. 

She gave a noncommittal hum, and continued on her way.

_ That explains her book being in the dungeons.  _

A small feeling of guilt arose, maybe he shouldn’t have kept it. 

_ I’m sure she has hundreds of books, she won’t miss this one.  _

But the thought weighed heavy on his mind. 

They both sat in their usual spots in potions, Granger in the front right table and him in the back left. He never really noticed he had direct sight of the witch in this class. And once he noticed her, his eyes never really left her. Today’s class was a continuation of their last, and students were left with putting the finishing touches on a burn salve that had been simmering.

Theo had slacked off during the prep of the ingredients and the preliminary steps so Draco made him do most of the work today. It gave him more time to observe granger in action. Her partner didn’t say much and let Granger do most of the work, whether that was out of laziness or Granger’s need to do everything herself, he couldn’t tell. The Gryffindor Patil simply sat back and observed. 

Granger shrugged off her school robe and laid it across her stool, opting to stand instead. A small sliver of pale skin peaked out from the edge of her scrunched jumper. She pulled her shirt down, but the quick glimpse he caught of the small of her back, prompted some dangerous thoughts. 

_ What’s she hiding under that uniform? _

He quickly looked away and checked in on Theo. He had just started crushing the final ingredients for the salve, and Draco busied his hands and mind with measuring the components. He could hear vigorous stirring start at the front of the classroom. The tell tale sound of the final step for this potion. 

He knew it had to be her, and he shouldn’t look, but he couldn’t stop himself. 

Her hair was pulled up in a bun, the back of her neck unusually bare. 

He watched her face as she focused on her task. Her soft features pulled into an expression of fierce concentration. His gaze swept down to where she was worrying at her bottom lip. He could see her arm straining, but determinately keeping pace for the necessary amount of time. Her free hand swept up and brushed a stray curl out of her eyes. Truly, her technique and timing was perfect. No doubt she created the best salve in the class. She was a perfectionist, like him. 

Something stirred within him, as he watched her in action. It’s like it all came so easily to her, like magic has always been part of her life. For Draco, it was hard to reconcile with those facts, that the person who was the best at all things magical was not born into the community. But she was the best, and after seven years he could not deny that. If she would have been born a pureblood, nothing could have stood in her way. 

_ If she was a pureblood... _

Soon the sound of whisking filled the classroom as other pairs reached the final stage. Theo complained as he stirred and sighed in relief when Draco gave him permission to stop. 

Granger was the first to leave as the bell rang, her hair back down and robe back on. Throwing her bag over her shoulder, she strode swiftly out the door. 

Draco quickly glanced up at the clock. He had just enough time to run to his room and get his quidditch gear ready for the pre-season scrimmage with Gryffindor. Throwing his potions textbook into his bag, he made his way towards the Slytherin dorms. After putting away his things, he triple checked that Granger's book was hidden away in his robe pocket at the back of his armoire. Confident that no one would find it easily, he grabbed his sports bag and walked briskly out of the dorms and across campus to the pitch. 

The rest of the team were just finishing gearing up when he got into the locker room. 

“Gotta hurry up Mate, we start in ten.” Blaise commented, passing Draco and heading out towards the field. He was already suited up and joined the other chasers. 

Draco changed quickly. Slipping his gloves on, he flexed his fingers then tightened the straps. Turning towards his locker, he retrieved his broom and briskly made his way out towards the pitch. As he pushed through the locker room door, he stopped short at the sight of the Weasel and Lavender snogging heavily. 

Anger flared inside him, more so than would be the appropriate response. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the disgusting public display of affection, or because of who were the ones participating. Either way, he didn’t like it. 

“Hey Weasel,” the two stopped sucking each other’s faces and looked up at him dumbly. Draco gave them a trademark sneer, “We have a sport to play, and our team won’t be waiting around for you prats. Tell your bint to stick around, I'm sure you’ll need cheering up after we smear Gryffindor.”

Lavender’s jaw dropped incredulously, and Ron’s face bloomed into a brilliant shade of red. Before he could even stammer a response, Draco had already turned making his way out onto the field. Smirking to himself, he rolled his shoulders. He was ready to thrash these half-wit lions. 

The scrimmage was short, the Gryffindor team was strangely distracted and disjointed. It was almost too easy for Slytherin to dominate them. Draco caught the snitch in record time and his team laughed and jeered loudly at their opponents all the way back to the locker room. Even the normally passive mask Draco wore cracked into a smile as he caught sight of Potter stomping away across the field.

The Slytherin common room was even more raucous that night. With the prospect of a favorable quidditch season ahead and the house cup up for grabs, the students let loose in celebration Admittedly, it didn't take much for Slytherin house to find reason to booze and schmooze. 

Draco only indulged in a single shot of Theo’s Firewhiskey before excusing himself to his prefect rounds.

“Lame!” Theo announced in his buzzed stupor. As much as it obviously  _ pained _ him to leave the loud annoying party of drunk students, he had a date with a good book. 

He grabbed his robe from his dorm, pulling it on as he made his way out of the common room and started his route. He found himself rushing again. Growing distracted as his thoughts turned towards Shakespeare’s narrative. 

He settled into his spot at the library quickly, flipped open the book to where he had left off, and returned to the world of Verona. The plot was picking up, and the aggressive adolescents had started another sword fight. Draco had a feeling this would not end well for them. 

_Mercutio_ _ : _

_ A plague o' both your houses! _

_ They have made worms' meat of me. I have it, _

_ And soundly too. Your houses! _

Draco was dismayed as they killed his favorite character. He was so entranced in the action that he didn’t hear the small footsteps getting closer to him. 

“Malfoy!” A voice whispered aggressively. 

Draco shot up and grabbed his wand, poised to cast at whoever snuck up on him. 

_ Oh Merlin, it’s her. Of all people it had to be her. _

-

_ Present _

Hermione marched around to where he was sitting.  She didn’t expect him to be startled and grab his wand. 

He was poised to cast a hex before he realized who it was. 

“Bloody hell, Granger. Just sneak up on a wizard, I’m sure that always works out well.” His eyebrows furrowed, angry and embarrassed at being caught off guard. 

“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be on prefect duty.”

“I could say the same to you, I know your route doesn’t cover the inside of the closed library.” He quipped back. 

“Don't change the subject Malfoy.” She huffed. 

“Just catching up on some light reading is all, I’m sure you of all people understand that.” A condescending smirk swept across his face. “Now if you’ll excuse me…” he swept up the book and moved past her. 

“Stop! That’s my book!” She reached for it but he held it up above his head, his height at his advantage. It was a childish tactic that Hermione certainly did not appreciate. 

“Is it now? What’s the phrase? Finders keepers?” A wicked smile appeared as he teased her. “I should have known the muggle book must have belonged to you”

“Malfoy, I need that book back, my parents gave it to me as a gift and even you’re not enough of a git to steal some book from me.” 

“I didn’t steal anything, I found it in the dungeons while doing my rounds last week, now how did it end up there, I wonder?”

Hermione was tired of this conversation, “Please Malfoy, just give it back, what do you want with it anyways?” 

“To finish it of course! It was just getting good before you interrupted me, how about I return it to you once I’m done? Then you can have your precious book back. I must say I’ve never read anything like this before and you wouldn’t be so cruel to leave me without knowing how it ends will you?”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Draco Malfoy wanted to borrow a muggle romance play from her. 

“Fine, but only because I want to see your face when you read the ending.” She returned a wicked smile of her own, hoping to unsettle him a bit. 

His eyes caught hers for a brief moment, seeing and accepting her challenge, he nodded and began walking away again. 

“I’ll see you next week, Granger.”


	2. Chapter 2

Draco didn’t need a week to finish the play. But he was not about to let on that he was almost finished. That he had been so consumed by the fate of the couple that he dreamt of Verona. The next morning he made a flimsy excuse to skip breakfast, and found his way to the empty astronomy tower. Dropping his bag to the floor, he sat upon the classroom steps and flipped open the book.

As the pages left became fewer and fewer, anxiety began to build in his chest. He knew there weren’t enough words written to resolve the mess the lovers had found themselves in. When Romeo drank his poison, Draco’s breath caught in his throat. He barely processed the words that followed, and gave a deep exhale when Juliet followed her love into oblivion. But he kept reading, ridiculously hoping that maybe there would be something to save them. When their saving grace never came and the last of the words were read, a single rebellious tear fell from his eye. His emotions rising high and clouding his mind. He didn’t like this ending, he wanted them to succeed and live their happily ever after. He slammed the book down and held his head in his hands. 

_ Why do I care so much? They aren’t real, it’s just a story.  _

But it wasn’t just a story, not to him. It was the permission he needed to let his mind wander into what could be. For so long he has restricted himself to the thoughts of a normal pureblooded life, never allowing himself to entertain the notions of anything else. Because he knew if he did, that’s all he would want, a life that in no way resembled what was set before him. 

And he could see it, a life where he was free from prejudice and tradition. 

_ A life with her.  _

A life with the owner of this bloody play, the swotty and utterly brilliant witch that has caught his eye for nearly 7 years. The one who has not left his mind since he found this bloody book. 

From the moment he learned her blood status, Draco pushed down every thought and fantasy he had of her. They could never be together, so he pushed her away, and lashed out when he could. Hoping that her anger and his rudeness would fix the problem. But it never did. He convinced himself that she wasn’t the perfect match for him because of something as stupid as linage. From the first time she bested him in classes he knew she was perfect. And he loved perfection. 

He stared down at the small book. 

Their story may have been a tragedy, but Draco was determined to make sure his story wouldn’t be. 

_ Granger, prepared to be pursued. _

_ - _

The first few days after the  _ incident _ Hermione avoided the four Gryffindors. Lavender and Ron loudly announced their relationship and the others were forced to accept this new development. She would skip breakfast and be just on time for classes. But when she tried to return to the social circle she found that Lavender would have none of that. Every time the two were together Lavender would pretend to tear up, saying that it was hard to be around the girl who insulted and humiliated her. So Hermione would have to sit somewhere else, even Harry wouldn’t hang out with her. Afraid that going against Ron would upset Ginny.  _ So much for Gryffindor courage. _

She found herself exiled from her ‘friends’, as they thought she overreacted to Ron and then bullied his new girlfriend. If only they knew the truth, and no one showed any sympathy about her stolen books. Except for Neville when he happened to find one in the greenhouse. Hermione moved through her days barely talking to anyone, blaming this lack of social interaction for her feelings of excitement at thoughts of seeing Draco again that night. At least it would be someone to talk to. 

When she found him again in the same corner of the library. He sat slouching, arms crossed, the book on the table in front of him. He looked like a little boy pouting. 

“What kind of ending was that, Granger? They died in what is most possibility the most idiotic fashion possible, neither of them could have thought of a better plan? Or even have the patience to wait and check if the other was dead? You should have taken it away from me last week so that I could have at least still had a positive opinion of it.” He roughly slid the book across the table, as if the text offended him. Hermione caught it before it went off the side and clutched it to her chest. 

“Well it is possibly the most popular tragedy of all time in the muggle world, so to most people, the ending it’s not a surprise.” She had to stop herself from smiling at his ignorance. “It’s not like it was one of Shakespeare’s comedies.” 

He sat up, “There’s more from this author?”

She nodded, “Of course, he’s the most famous writer from Britain, possibly the world. His stories are entwined in muggle culture.”

A beat of silence passed, but she could tell he was in thought. “Do you have copies of the others?”

“Perhaps, but why should I lend them to you? You basically forced me to lend you this one.”

He rose from his chair, and came around to her. He leaned against the table, only a few inches away. “See it as muggle studies, and you’re my personal tutor.”

She huffed, “I'm not your  _ personal _ anything Malfoy.”

Hermione took a moment to think. What game is he playing here? She wanted to find out, and couldn’t see a way in which this could backfire. Maybe he’s changing? Or at least taking steps to? His pointy face gave nothing away, though it's not quite as pointy as she remembered.

She made her decision quickly. “But, who am I to deny learning?”

He flashed a genuine smile. One that she only saw in passing at the Slytherin table during meals, and even then, only sparingly. 

“Great,” he pushed off the table and faced her fully, “I also had a few questions on muggle things that were in Romeo and Juliet, maybe after I read these other ones I can ask all my questions to you?  _ Oh great muggle tutor _ .” The last part said with an ostentatious bow. 

She smiled, “Draco Malfoy calling me ‘great’, I like the way that sounds.”

His eyes stared into her, filled with an emotion Hermione couldn’t quite place. “I’ll call you ‘great’ everyday, if it gets me what I want.”

She couldn’t find the words to respond for probably a moment too long, still caught in the intensity of his gaze. She finally broke and looked down to the book in her hands. “Fine, I’ll drop off the copy on this shelf,” she pointed to the fairly sparse shelf beside her. “Come grab it tomorrow evening and we’ll meet again next Friday?”

He flashed his smile again, “Great.”

-

The next morning after breakfast she left him  _ A Midsummer's Night Dream _ , an illustrated copy she received from her grandparents on her 13th birthday. Maybe he’ll like the ending of this one better. 

She went about her day according to her ‘new normal’ which consisted of being glared at by Lavender and talking to no one. Well mostly no one, Luna happened to find her today in the halls. 

Luna was a Ravenclaw, but she floated around Hogwarts and paid no attention to house rivalries or social conventions. And while usually at the bad end of harsh jokes, she seemed unfazed. When Hermione first was shunned away from her classmates, she thought of Luna, and if she could survive Hogwarts by herself then so could Hermione. 

The petite blonde tugged at Hermione's robe while on her way to Charms class. 

Hermione twirled around to see who was seeking her attention. “Oh, hello Luna.”

“Hermione, my tea leaves today were about you.” She waited for her to go on, but the Ravenclaw simply stared into her eyes, and she couldn’t help but notice that her blonde classmate had the closest shade of blonde to Malfoy that she’s seen. Maybe their families had some sort of historical connection. 

Luna smiled, “The reading foretold big changes ” She rolled her eyes around to see who could hear, before leaning into Hermione to whisper, “But I think it’ll be good, so good luck.” 

“Um, thank you?” 

Luna nodded and skipped away. 

Hermione did not put much faith in divination, but it felt nice that Luna would seek her out to share what she thought to be encouraging news. 

Her small interaction with Luna was on her mind all week, and before she knew it, it was Friday again. Which meant another meeting with Malfoy in the library. She couldn’t admit to herself that she was looking forward to it, but she did come prepared this time. Thinking back on their last meeting she’s sure he would ask for another book, so she brought _A_ _Winter’s Tale_ , to trade for _Midsummer_. The day seemed to drag, and when evening came she rushed through her rounds and found her way into the library.

He sat not in his usual section, but in a nearby corner which held a sofa and lounge chairs. One leg crossed over the other, his attention was held by a section of the book. As he saw her approaching he closed it with a resounding snap, sitting forward and dropping his leg down.

“What? No book shoving today?” She prodded as she took a seat at the other end of the sofa.

“This one wasn’t offensive.” he quipped. “It reminded me of an Amortentia plot gone wrong. I did appreciate the pictures Granger, just in case my pureblooded mind couldn’t follow along, I at least had pretty drawings to look at.” He had a teasing glint in his eye as he smirked.

“I thought you might need the help, Shakespeare is dense sometimes. Which reminds me I brought another copy.” She handed over her book, hardcover, unlike the last two. Their hands briefly brushed as they exchanged plays. He was cold to the touch, probably a result of sleeping in the dungeon dorms for years. 

He inspected the copy before speaking again,

“I did have a question though-” 

“I thought you’d present your questions after you read all of them.” she reminded him. 

“Fine, I’ll ask an unrelated question,” he scooted closer to her. She could smell his minty cologne and his arm stretched behind her on the sofa. Her mind flashed quickly back to how she saw Harry and Ginny sitting like this in the common room. “Why don’t you sit with Potter and the Weasels anymore?”

“Spying on me, Malfoy?” She cocked an eyebrow at him. Trying to remain confident despite his proximity. 

“All I know is that a dirty blonde now sits where there is usually a brunette.” He played with a loose curl of her hair, trying to pass off his observation as trivial. Her eyes studied his hand twirling her strands, his finger’s long and slender like a pianist. Her stomach gave a strange jolt. 

Shaking her head, she focused back on the conversation. 

“Ha.” She huffed, “ Dirty doesn’t even begin to describe that bint.” Hermione is still bitter about the situation, and it wasn’t like Malfoy was going to tell anyone what she said. Her breath hitched as he ran his hand through her hair. Unexpected, not unpleasant, but very confusing. 

He seemed tickled by her response, “Naughty words Granger, and here I thought only the Slytherins were tossers.” 

“There’s tossers in every house.”

He gave a small chuckle, the first time she’s ever heard him laugh, and pulled away from her. She let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. 

“Now that is very true.” He got up to leave, “But Granger,” she looked up at him, his face changed from amused to serious. “They shouldn’t be treating you like that, don’t they know you exceed everyone at that table? See you next week.”

It must have been a trick of the low candlelight, but she could have sworn he winked at her before leaving her dumbfounded in the dim library. 

-

As Hermione was leaving breakfast, the newly appointed Headmistress McGonagall caught her attention and pulled her aside. 

McGonagall had taken the position after Dumbeldore’s surprise retirement at the end of last year. None of the other teachers expected his sudden desire to spend his old age meddling in affairs both domestic and abroad, and he has been on the continent since the summer. She was a great leader, but was adjusting slowly to her new powerful position. The students could tell that she seemed to wish to return to being the head of gryffindor. 

“Ms. Granger,” the witch called out as Hermione started towards the library, where she usually spent her free periods. She turned to her headmistress and came closer to her, moving out of the way of other students heading towards classes. 

“Can you please join me in my office for some tea? I have something I would like to discuss with you.” She left no room for rejection and began walking towards her office entrance. 

“Is something the matter, headmistress?” Hermione questioned as she caught up. 

“Just a small problem I believe, no need to get worried.” McGonagall left it at that and whispered her password to the statue. It revealed the stairs and the two made their way into the office. A quick wave of the headmistress’s hand had a tea set float their way towards the small table and chairs off to the side of the office. The room was still overrun with trinkets and things that Dumbledore left behind, but she could tell some progress had been made to slowly move things out. 

Once the two had taken a few sips of tea, McGonagall revealed the purpose of this impromptu meeting. 

“I may be Headmistress now, Ms. Granger, but I am not completely disconnected from the lives of my former students.” She paused, and gave a pointed look towards Hermione.

“I’ve noticed some strange social changes in the 7th year gryffindor house,” Hermione tensed up, she really didn’t want to talk to McGonagall about this. 

“And I wanted to make sure you’re alright Ms. Granger.” 

“Of course I’m alright,” the curly haired witch responded quickly. McGonagall remained quiet, and Hermione took the cue to continue. “I appreciate your concern Headmistress, but I assure you it’s nothing more than just- it’s just teenage antics. I’m sure this will all blow over soon.”

The older witch hummed, and took another sip of her tea. 

“Adolescence is such a difficult time, and if I may give a word of advice? You'll find that after you leave Hogwarts, the bonds you might have created here either get stronger or they simply break.” She placed her cup down, and gave a sympathetic look. “And that house loyalties don’t matter as much when there’s no more points to be earned. Your future friends, coworkers, and spouse,” the young witch blushed, “could be sitting at another table, in another year, or have graduated before you. Don’t limit yourself to the small social circle of convenience and proximity.”

Hermione looked down at her teacup, trying to control the emotions that have been racking her since this whole ordeal started. She was lonely, devastated that her only group of friends had simply abandoned her. Who knew how long this shunning would last, and could she even bring herself to forgive them for their behavior? Maybe there is another path for her this year, one in which she didn’t need them to be happy. 

She couldn’t trust herself to respond in words, but she gave a small nod to her mentor. 

They finished their tea in silence, and as Hermione pushed up from her chair to go. McGonagall gave one last observation, “Ms. Granger, you are a brilliant witch. There are many in this school that admire you and see your worth. Seek those people out, and I’m sure you’ll cherish their friendship.”

-

The next week went by quickly, as exams and assignments picked up and kept Hermione busy. She spent a lot of time in the library, though far away from where her meetings with Malfoy took place. For some reason it felt wrong to be there without him. That little nook of shelves and seating has been labeled as his in her mind. And he was on her mind a lot lately. Despite her best efforts she still couldn’t find any indication of his motives for these meetings. Maybe she just wasn’t Slytherin enough to understand. But she was finally admitting to herself that she enjoyed their small encounters, and hoped that his intentions weren’t sinister. 

At dinner she ate with Luna at the Ravenclaw table. Most of the blue-tied students didn't say anything and simply let her be. A few of the younger Ravenclaw students actually liked to talk to Luna, finding her a fascinating study, and in turn also kept Hermione company in their section. 

“Hermione have you seen my spectacles? They seem to have gone away from my head.” Luna posed to the curly haired witch. Her hand laying on her head where they usually are. 

“They’re hanging from your shirt Luna.” Hermione replied, slipping them up and handing them to the blonde. 

“You’re very good at finding things Hermione. I would have never seen those without my spectacles.”

Hermione gave a smile, Luna was surprisingly easy to be around, while perplexing she was never stressful company. And she also helped Hermione with divination class. 

_ Who needs Gryffindor?  _

-

It was almost ten o’clock on Thursday night and Hermione was trying to comb some knots out of her hair before getting in bed. Lavender sat reading witch weekly on her bed, her lamp being the only light in the room. Pavarti was already under the covers but not asleep quite yet. 

Lavender broke the silence, “I asked Ron about you, you know.” She kept flipping through pages nonchalantly, peering slightly over the pages to see Hermione's reaction. Hermione ignored her and continued the attempt at brushing her hair. 

“Wanna know what he told me?” She said, a little louder this time. Pavarti opened one eye, interested in what the blonde had to say. 

When Hermione ignored her again, she dealt the blow.

“He said ‘Who would want a frigid bitch like her?’” 

Lavender and Pavarti burst out laughing. 

“He wouldn’t say that.” Hermione finally snapped and turned to look at her roommate. 

“Give me Versitsum. I swear by it. Believe me if I was making this up I would have said something far worse.” She had a wicked smile, enjoying the sight of frustration playing across Hermione’s face. 

Hermione was sick of Lavender’s antics and fired back, “Oh yeah? And when was this? Before or after you sucked his dick?” She smiled internally when she saw a flash of anger across Lavender's eyes. 

“During.” She replied, another laugh from Pavarti, “Maybe if you were pretty and the boys gave you some attention you wouldn’t be such a bloody prude.”

Hermione was quick with her retort. “I’m sure your parents are very proud of your accomplishments with these teen boys, even if you were  _ second pick. _ ”

Lavender slammed the flimsy pages of her magazine together. “And you’re just Hermione Granger, better than everyone else aren’t you?” 

She huffed, “Well they don’t call me the golden girl for nothing.”

“That’s just the nickname they say to your face. You won’t believe what they say when you leave the room.” 

Pavarti giggled again, but added nothing. Simply turning over in her bunk. Lavender set her magazine down and turned off the light. 

Hermione pulled her bed curtains around her, and cast a quick silencing charm, preventing anything more the blonde had to say from reaching her ears. While she didn’t want to give Lavender the satisfaction, she knew that what she said was likely true. She wouldn’t put it past Ron to throw her under the bus in order to win favor with his new girlfriend. The words stung, and she curled around her pillow wishing for the unwanted anxiety and self-loathing to go away. Sleep evaded her as her thoughts bounced back and forth from the situation with Ron, to the other wizard on her mind, Draco Malfoy. 

She would meet up with him tomorrow night to answer his questions about Shakespeare. The situation was still crazy to think about, and if you would have told her this would be her life a month ago you would’ve been sent straight to St. Mungo’s. She had begun experiencing a kind of excited anticipation for their meetings, and while a discussion of literature was always fascinating, she wasn't sure that she liked the finality of this meeting. Would this be the last time they meet up in the library? 

She ignored the pang of loneliness as she rolled over in her four-poster, thoughts turning to the questions Malfoy planned on asking. Most likely berating muggles and their way of life she assumed. It wouldn’t surprise her to hear him asking why they were so ‘primitive’ compared to wizards. That’s what she would have assumed of him previously anyways, but now it somehow felt wrong. Something akin to butterflies in her stomach made her smile as she found herself, hoping he would surprise her yet again. 

-

Classes on Friday went by in a blur, and Hermione couldn’t help but steal glances at him during passing periods and meal times. He seemed to move through school with suave and confidence. He kept close to his inner circle of Slytherins, mostly Blasie Zabini and Theo Nott. She wondered if they knew where he was sneaking off to during prefect rounds. She quietly wondered if he shared any of the anxiety she felt for tonight's meeting.

After dinner she rushed up to Gryfinndor tower to put her things away and get a head start on an ancient runes essay she had due at the end of next week before her meeting with Malfoy. When curfew rolled around she grabbed her school robe and trotted down through the common room, not bothering to slow down as she headed towards the portrait hole. The last thing she was hoping to see was Lavender curled up on Ron’s lap, snogging his face off. She kept her head down, eyes locked ahead. 

“Hermione, hold on.” Harry caught her as she passed by. She gave a resounded sigh and looked up at him. Pointedly ignoring a giggling Lavender over in front of the fireplace curled up next to Ron.

“Harry, I have rounds to do.” She turned and headed through the portrait, but he followed. Harry was always persistent, which made him a good seeker, but right now it just made him annoying. 

“I need to talk to you Hermione, about all of this.” He gestured vaguely around them.

“About what? This exile you’ve all forced on me?” Her tone, rightfully bitter. 

He ran his hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. “You know that’s not what I wanted to happen.”

She huffed, “No, but you just perpetuated it.”

He quickly defended, “I haven’t done anything but try to keep the peace.”

She rolled her eyes, he always defended Ron. “And your silence has only helped them, even Malfoy of all people have noticed that you’ve all shunned me.”

That got his attention and his green eyes locked with hers. “When were you talking with Malfoy about this?”

Hermione backpedaled quickly, mentally kicking herself for mentioning Malfoy. “That’s none of your concern.” The look he gave her was suspicious, so she kept talking before he could say anything else on the matter. 

“But after these last few weeks, I suppose I should be happy that anyone is engaging with me,” she sniffed. “And when people do notice me they just think I deserve the treatment I'm getting after what I said to Lavender. No one seems to care about what Lavender did to me. Apparently not even my ‘best friends’. No, I guess I’m just the bitter girl who had her ‘man’ taken, and that’s the story that all of you don’t deny.”

He gave a frustrated sigh. “But isn’t that what it is? You’ve never reacted like that before! The only thing that could have set you off is finding them doing- doing… what they were.. doing,” he finished lamely. A flush had crept up his neck. Clearing his throat, he quickly moved on. “You’re not acting like yourself, the Hermione I know would have never said that to Lavender,” he said resolutely. 

He couldn’t be more wrong and she almost wanted to cry from sheer anger. Taking a deep breath, and desperately trying to keep her composure she looked Harry in the face. “I hope Ginny has more patience for you than I do, because what you’re saying is utterly ridiculous. This isn’t just some cat fight because I’m jealous. Ron can marry the girl for all I care!”

Harry tried to respond, but Hermione cut him off with a glare. She was done with this conversation. Seven years of frustration was coming to the surface and she did nothing to stop it from overflowing. She felt her eyes starting to sting with the beginnings of tears. 

“All of this has proven that none of you really knew me. I have feelings and wants and dreams that none of you cared to ask about! I will not be your brainy sidekick forever. ” She quickly turned and fled down the hall, leaving Harry stunned outside the portrait of the fat lady. 

“Hermione,” he called out to her, “I thought we were friends.”

She turned back, “I thought we were too. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere I need to be. Goodnight, Harry”

She spun around, biting back a sob as she ran to the library. 

She pushed through the heavy doors, slowing her pace. Taking a deep breath, she wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeve before heading towards their usual meeting place. Malfoy sat in the lounge chair this time. Somehow he always beat her here. She walked around the couch and stopped a few feet in front of him. As she met his gaze, she saw his eyes flash with concern. She knew she must look a mess. She could feel the heat in her cheeks and knew her eyes were still red and puffy. But she didn’t offer him any explanation and he didn’t ask. He simply stood, bringing his hand slowly to her face, the backs of his knuckles wiping away a stray tear on her cheek. 

His touch had been gentle, and she felt a warmth spreading where his fingers had brushed her skin.

He pulled away a few inches and began to reach in his pocket, “I got you something, for letting me borrow your books.” Hermione couldn't hide the surprise on her face when he pulled out a package of sugar quills from his robe.

“Thank you, how did you know I like these?” She said softly, her voice still tight from crying. 

“I was walking by the Gryffindor table a while back, and saw you sharing some with Weasley's sister. Observant is a Malfoy trait you know.” His signature smirk finding its place on his face again. 

She smiled and wiped her eyes one final time “Well it is a refreshing change to have someone give me a gift that is something other than a book. It’s like nobody can fathom that I would want anything else.” Even her parents always defaulted to a book, no matter the occasion. It was strange to think that it was Draco Malfoy who knew what she wanted. 

“I can think of at least a dozen gifts for you, but that’s neither here nor there.” He left that statement hanging and pulled a piece of paper from the blue hardcover, on it was his list of questions. 

“I have about a dozen or so, are you still up to answering them?”

“Of course, what are muggle studies tutors for?” She tilted her head and gave him a sly smile. Looking forward to his inquiries, and hoping to encourage a new perspective on muggles. She settled into the sofa with Malfoy easing in next to her. He gave her a small smile and began reading off his questions.

The first few were quick and easy, simple queries about muggle technology and customs. He followed this with a few questions about how muggles viewed and discussed their version of magic. He also asked about Shakespeare as an author, his life and legacy in Britain and the world. 

Hermione answered as best as she could, her responses leading to new topics and discussions. The conversation would take interesting digressions and soon they would forget what they had originally been talking about. The hours passed and the candle lighting their little corner of the library grew shorter and shorter. They eventually opened up the pack of sugar quills and shared them as they continued talking, down to the last three questions on his list. 

“Did your parents name you after Shakespeare’s Hermione?” He took another bite of the candy and crossed off the question on his list. It was jarring to hear her name in his voice.

But she recovered quickly, responding, “Yes, not the Roman one. Though I’m sure Shakespeare named his character after her so it’s all the same isn’t it?” 

“You know, I didn’t know how your name was spelled until I saw it in the grade postings. There it was, in top position of course.” They shared a laugh, like they’ve been friends for years. This night felt timeless, like an alternate reality where they were just a wizard and a witch, without all of this history around them. 

He looked down at his paper, reading the next question.

“What is a  _ wet nurse _ ?”

She remembers asking that same question when she first read Shakespeare too. “It’s a servant woman who breastfeeds her master’s children so the lady of the house doesn’t have to. Did wizarding families not historically have this situation?”

He shook his head, “Servants have always been house elves, and I’m sure they can’t produce milk for infants. I can’t imagine a mother letting another woman do that.”

She gave a non-committal hum and waited for his next question. 

“The last one is a question I’m sure you don’t really have an answer to.”

“Try me.” She challenged. 

“It’s about Romeo and Juliet, it’s been on my nerves ever since I read it. Why didn’t they just run away? I’m sure there were ways for them to sneak off together. To a place where there were no feuding families, and just two teens in love.”

“I’m sure the logistics were harder than that, where would they go? On what funds would they survive? And at the end of the day, they still had love for their family. They wanted to get married and force a union of families, rather than run away from them.”

“Both of their families were tossers, her mom couldn’t even nurse her own baby.” he huffed. 

Hermione was frustrated and strangely defensive for the muggle star-crossed lovers. “Well it’s not like any of us had any control over what family we were born into.” Her words sliced through the air, crossing a line that they’ve been tiptoeing for weeks. They didn’t talk about their past, or even allude to it. These meetings had been in a bubble, away from the past children who had snarked and insulted. Instead it was just two minds meeting, discussing, conversing wonderful romantic writing. Hermione stood up to keep from fidgeting. She could feel the mood in the room shift. He took a deep breath. “Granger, I just have to say it. I don’t believe that blood purity nonsense that my father spouts.”

“Right, so the use of mudblood was just for giggles then.” She fired back unapologetically. 

His hands tensed. “Look I was a prat, I know that. I was a kid who was embarrassed and wanted to hurt you. I couldn’t poke at your intelligence since you were top of the class, I couldn’t call you ugly since you’re pretty and you knew it, so I was left with one insult and I just spat it out. What was worse is that you didn’t even know what it meant, kinda took the bite out of it. I’m sorry for saying it Granger, and every other stupid thing I’ve said. I know there is no excuse for my past behavior . I grew up not knowing how to control my own ego, and hurting you in the process of learning and for that I take responsibility.”

It felt like time stopped. Every word he said coming in as if in slow motion. Hermione couldn’t believe what she was hearing, Malfoy apologizing? And in what world would he ever call her pretty.

“I didn’t know it. I didn’t know I was pretty.” But when she looked into his eyes, she knew that he thought she was. Hermione boldly stepped between his long legs, and his hand came to rest on her hip. 

“You’re beautiful, and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel otherwise.” They both stayed motionless, letting the tension build until it was almost unbearable. Draco finally broke into a chuckle, and she cocked her head in confusion.

“I was just thinking that was the least Slytherin thing I’ve ever done. My father would possibly disown me for apologizing to you.” 

She smiled. “That wasn’t the least Slytherin thing you’ve done,  _ this is _ .” 

The first kiss was chaste and quick, catching both of them by surprise. The second however was very intentional. His pale hands pulled her tight against him, he could smell the almond shampoo that permeated her wild mane. Her hands found their way over his shoulders, fingers playing with the blonde hair at the base of his neck. She sat straddling across his lap in the oversized lounge chair, her uniform skirt bunched up over his slacks. 

While she didn't expect to ever be kissing Draco, she definitely did not expect the encounter to feel so romantic. It wasn't the harsh fiery passion that sometimes wormed into her dreams at night, his touch was slow, his lips soft and his fingers gently gliding across her hips. In the small breaks between their kisses, his breath is low and in gasps, like he was in awe to be in her presence. The Gryffindor Golden Girl and the Slytherin Prince, that was a sight to behold. 

“Hermione,” he whispers, his breath fanning out across her lips, the name rolling out on his tongue as if he’s said it so many times before. His gray eyes were dark like storm clouds, the usually composed pureblood was off-kilter, the energy around him highly charged. “I wanted you. I wanted you for so long.”

His words come as a shock, and her head spins and she thinks back to their previous interactions. Before all of this. Whatever  _ this _ was. Years of animosity and fighting flashed before her eyes, and in context, they became visions of an angry boy pining for the attention of the girl he craves. The hidden glances at the Yule Ball were of want, not disgust. His snide remarks, a way to draw her attention to him. The jabs at Harry and Ron… were jealousy. And finally, his demands of reading and discussing Shakespeare were excuses to spend time with her. 

But he is Draco Malfoy, a pureblood from the Sacred 28, the heir to a powerful family. And for some reason he wants her. He could have any girl, yet he chose her. The thought of his want-his desire for her, had her chest aching. She can feel chills run up her spine as his hand curves around the small of her back pressing her closer into him. 

Her thoughts are cut by another kiss, this time with more pressure. Her heart jumps in her chest when she first feels his tongue at the seam of her lips. No one has ever kissed her like that. Feeling the desire rise in her, she parted her lips ever so slightly. She released a gentle moan as his tongue flicked forward to taste her. Leaning in towards him, she let go of all her inhibition, allowing him entrance to explore her mouth. Hermione felt the blush rise in her checks as he hummed his approval. 

Catching their breath, she pressed her forehead into his, his eyes were shut but she couldn't help but look at him. His eyelashes, blonde and soft against his cheeks. Skin, pale and flawless. 

Draco took a deep breath and pulled back just a bit. His gaze ghosting over her lips before looking up to meet her deep amber eyes.. Lifting a hand to cradle her chin, his thumb tracing her lips.

For the first time since this moment started, his trademark smirk returned to his face. “Now that I have you, I’ll never let you go.” His vow was sealed with another quick kiss, his words not even registering, as Hermione lost herself to the soft yet possessive touch of the young wizard. 

Despite herself, she was loving every moment here hidden in the dark library. Draco was exactly what she needed in her life right now, a man who can keep up with her and take her to places she never knew she could. Something Ron could never do, his dreams were more suited for a girl like Lavender.

“Please, tell me you want this too.” His pleading reminds her that she's been silent this whole time.

She doesn't need to think twice about her answer, as she too responds with a quick kiss.

“Of course, Draco.”

The pair share a bright smile in the quiet library, they knew this was only the beginning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is only the beginning for these two! I have the next part of the series in the works, this originally was meant to be the first chapter of the whole story, but I think it's better by itself. 
> 
> Let me know your feedback!


End file.
